Chapter 22: The Taste of Restraint

 When their relationship officially began, it did not unfold like spun sugar—no constant sweetness, no clinging affection. Ruan Jing had always been the untethered sort, easygoing to the point of indifference, the kind of woman others labeled cold-hearted and unreliable in love. Yet with Zhao Qiyan, she was already considered unusually attentive, almost devoted.

As for Qiyan, his careful restraint came from a single, stubborn fear: that he might overstep and give her a reason to leave. He would rather swallow his impulses than risk appearing clingy. So he waited. Most of the time, he let her be the one to seek him out, holding himself back even when every instinct urged him forward.

One Friday, twenty minutes before the café closed, a waiter called to inform him that a guest had arrived asking for him. Zhao Qiyan, who had already driven halfway home, turned the car around without hesitation.

The café closed at ten.

Qi Yan pushed the door open quietly. Inside, only a warm yellow wall lamp glowed against the wall. Ruan Jing was curled against the dark red sofa, asleep. A magazine lay open beside her; one hand rested lightly against her arm. She wore a loose beige sweater that softened her figure but could not conceal its grace. Her legs were drawn up casually, posture languid, as though the space itself belonged to her.

Qi Yan approached slowly.

He knelt on one knee beside the sofa. When the back of his fingers brushed her cheek, the sensation shot through him like a live current. His breath tightened. A reckless thought surged up—bold and shameful—and he recoiled as if burned, pulling his hand back just in time.

Her eyelashes fluttered. She stirred awake.

"Coming..." Her voice was soft and husky with sleep. "Sorry, I think I fell asleep."

"Are you tired?" Qi Yan smoothed a hand over her dark hair, pressing down the wave of desire that had nearly overtaken him.

"No, I don't know why I'm so sleepy today." She yawned lightly. "Sorry to bother you."

Her car had stalled just outside her office parking lot. Rather than fuss over it, she had walked here. If he was present, she would ask for a ride; if not, she would take the bus. The waiter had made the call before she could decide otherwise.

Qi Yan smiled and helped her sit upright. "I'd be happy to be your driver."

"Should I say it's my honor?" She lifted the half-finished cup of coffee and took a sip. "Your coffee is still the best to my taste."

"Really?" He leaned in and, as if absentmindedly, took a sip from the same cup in her hand. "Not bad."

Ruan Jing laughed outright. "Your taste has declined."

He looked at her then, eyes darkened in a way that made her heartbeat stutter. She rose too quickly. "Uh, have you left?" A second later she caught the double meaning behind his "Not bad," and heat crept into her expression.

"Let's go." His voice held an indulgent warmth. He liked these exchanges—the way her composure faltered just slightly.

On the drive back, Ruan Jing bought a slice of cheesecake, claiming hunger.

He rarely initiated conversation while driving, but this time he did. "Are you free tomorrow, it's the weekend?"

"What's up?" She had already opened the box and taken a bite.

"I'd like to ask you to play ball."

She shook her head. "I refuse. I don't want to be your opponent anymore."

He laughed softly. "Where's our partner? The other side is a golden duo, how about we try teaming up?"

She considered it. "If I can find the time, I'll call ahead, okay?"

"That's good enough. Being a candidate is sufficient."

The car paused at a red light.

Without warning, Zhao Qiyan reached over and wiped the smear of cheese from the corner of her mouth. When he withdrew his hand, he brought his fingertip to his lips and licked it clean.

Then he lifted his gaze and held hers.

For a moment she could not move.

There was something in his eyes—unmasked, deliberate. A hunger he had never displayed so plainly before. They did not look away. The air thickened between them until a horn blared from behind, snapping the spell.

She coughed and turned toward the window. He had already stepped on the accelerator, face composed, as though nothing unusual had occurred.

The next evening, while watching television, Ruan Jing froze at a wildlife documentary’s narration: snow leopards only lick blood that way.

On Saturday morning, at eleven, the Ruan family realized Ruan Jing had skipped the scheduled dinner gathering. A maid mentioned she had overheard Jing in the garden earlier, making a call to invite her boyfriend to play ball.

Ruan Zheng struck the floor lightly with his cane. "This is outrageous!"

Guests that day included the Ruan family and close associates—Jiang Wei, his son, and Jiang Yan among them.

At ten that morning, Zhao Qiyan arrived at the outdoor tennis court with two friends. He was already waiting when Ruan Jing’s car pulled up. She stepped out calmly, dressed in clean, understated sportswear, effortlessly striking.

"She is really beautiful," one friend murmured.

Zhao Qiyan lowered his head to adjust his wristband. "Don't make a move on her."

"Hey Zhao, didn't you say it wasn't your girlfriend who came?"

He had never declared her as such. If Ruan Jing did not say it herself, he would not presume.

"That's still not acceptable."

His friend stared, then laughed. "OK, I get it."

The match was exhilarating. Playing alongside her stirred something almost addictive in him. When the game ended in a draw, he found himself unwilling to stop.

Afterward, Ruan Jing wiped her face with a towel, unscrewed her water bottle, drank, then handed it to him naturally. "Chrysanthemum tea, refreshing and cooling."

He knew she meant nothing intimate by it. That made the quiet pleasure sharper.

"Want to have lunch together?"

"Okay, but no Korean food."

"We've never disagreed on this."

When they parted from the others, Ruan Jing and Zhao Qiyan drove off one after the other.

One member of the so-called golden duo asked, "What's the relationship between these two?"

"Heh, it's because of a secret relationship."

That afternoon, Ruan Jing was summoned to her grandfather’s study the moment she returned home.

"You put on a show of respect by not socializing, and you're out fooling around all day. Don't you even respect me as your grandfather anymore?!"

"Yes." (Thirty-first time) "Do you still see me as your grandfather?"

"Boyfriend? Huh? Jiang Wei is at the Ruan family's house today, where did you get a boyfriend from?"

"Newly made friends with them."

Her frankness only inflamed him further. "Look at you now, trying to be two-timing like other people!"

"Grandpa, I won't have my cake and eat it too. I know what I'm doing."

She did not sound evasive. His anger gradually cooled.

"There are some things you need to know in your heart."

Ruan Zheng had always been measured about matters of marriage within the family. But Ruan Jing’s circumstances were complicated, and she was his youngest granddaughter—the one he favored most. He would not see her future decided lightly.

"If you have no interest in Uncle Jiang's son, then make it clear. If you're not meant to be, then don't ruin the harmony."

"Um."

"If you're really dating someone, bring them home for a meal so we elders can have a good look and know what's going on. Ultimately, it's your own business, and we won't object as long as the relationship isn't too bad."

"I know, Grandpa."

"What's your name?"

"Qiyan, Zhao Qiyan."

Ruan Zheng nodded slowly. "It's a good name."

Outside the study door, a man who had been standing motionless turned and walked away in silence.